


Gut Feeling

by myfinalpleasure



Category: Fargo (TV), Fargo - Fandom
Genre: Cross posted on Wattpad, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fargo is so under appreciated for its characters and unique stories, He’s lost too much, I had to write about possibly what happened while they were held up together, I’m doing my best I apologize, I’m terrible at tagging, M/M, Nikki learns ASL, Past Mr. Wrench/Mr. Numbers, Possibly More Tags To Come, They’re both just real big softies, Wes deserves the world, Wrench totally loves her boobs sorry headcanon, we need a bigger fandom, what if Nikki didn’t die yknow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfinalpleasure/pseuds/myfinalpleasure
Summary: Gut feeling definition:1. Noun. (idiomatic). An instinct or intuition; an immediate or basic feeling or reaction without a logical rationale.2. A song by DEVO.•••Nikki and Wrench’s story, as told by them. They form an unlikely duo, leading to an adventure involving plotting to avenge their near deaths, plus perhaps beginning to enjoy each other’s company. If only it could go on like that forever.





	Gut Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rawillliveforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawillliveforever/gifts).



Nikki was eight when she first realized she had a superpower. Well, at least, that’s what she used to enjoying referring it to as.  
The school day would drag on forever, the long hours ticking away on a clock that sat above the doorway to her classroom. With nothing better to do, she observed. The fellow students’ habits and mannerisms, how quickly she was able to catch on the the math equations that were written in the chalkboard. It became quickly evident to Nikki that she had keen eyes for figuring things out. Noticing. Somehow, she was always the first to solve the day’s lessons. She noticed when her fifth grade teacher stopped wearing his wedding ring and began to drink more coffee, she noticed when Tilly Jackson began wearing turtle necks and scarves in grade eight after getting her first boyfriend, and most importantly, she learned how to play bridge watching the men on the TV.  
The way they moved their cards and watched each other’s faces was so fascinating, and Nikki knew this was the perfect thing to place her superpower in.  
It quickly became less and less of a superpower and more of a need, just like food or water. Without her quick learning skills and observational watching, she wouldn’t have been able to plan her way out of any of the situations that led to the one she was in now. Hobbling towards the car in the parking lot of an alleyway with her arm wrapped around the shoulder of a deaf stranger.  
She pushed herself forward with each step, willing her legs to carry her just a bit further. The keys in her hand felt cold and slick, and it still seemed unreal that they were just handed to her freely. The warmth of the kitten was nothing but a phantom feeling now, but she was sure she hadn’t imagined it. The man at the counter. Surely she wasn’t hallucinating from blood loss. With a glance back at the bowling alley, Nikki prayed silently that she hadn’t actually stolen the car in some crazed attempt to help herself and her stranger.  
Reaching for the driver’s side, the man grabbed her arm to stop her. She gave him a puzzled look and he signed something slowly, either out of exhaustion or in hopes she would somehow understand what he was saying.  
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say. It’s fine, I’ll drive,” she attempted to open the door again, and this time the stranger pulled her away from the door. He pointed at her leg and mimicked her crashing the car.  
“I’m fine, it’s-“ Sighing, Nikki realized there was so point in arguing. If anything, she could manage a bit of rest if she let him drive. “Fine, you drive.” She slapped the keys into his hand and propped herself against the hood as she limped to the passengers seat.  
While climbing in Nikki released a cry of pain, her stomach and ribs throbbed and her leg numb with lack of circulation. She quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed, then glanced at the man beside her, who was unaware as he buckled in that she had made any noise at all. That made her feel a little better while the engine came to life as the keys were placed in the ignition.  
“Wait,” she called out, grabbing the stranger’s coat. He looked at her with a furrowed brow. She dug into her pocket and produced a small notepad she had taken from the alley, then checked the glove box for a pen. She found a pencil and scrawled a message, then handed it to him. 

**Name’s Nikki. I figured we need a way to talk.**

He looked back up at her, staring as if to decide if the name suited her. She wondered for a moment if he even knew what her name sounded like, but felt it was rude to ask. He grabbed the pencil from her and wrote a reply. 

**Wrench. Can read lips.**

 

She thought for a moment maybe she had misread it. That had to be a last name.  
“You can really see what I’m saying?” She asked, and he raised a brow. “What’s your real name? I gave you mine.”  
He scribbled out another message and placed it between them before putting the car into drive and beginning their road trip to who knows where. Nikki picked up the pad with slight offence at his abrupt end to their conversation. 

**You talk too fast.**

 

•••

Nikki was woken with a sudden jerk of the car stopping. She quickly sat up, completely unaware she had fallen asleep. Black, crusted blood stained the car floor and her pant leg.  
She turned her head to see Wrench rubbing his hands through his curls. His eyes were on top of dark circles from what was presumably hours of driving, based on the rising sun that now lit the sky with pinks and oranges.  
She looked and saw they were at a motel, with a broken light up sign and no cars in the parking lot. The kind of motel people get murdered at.  
“Where are we?” She asked with a yawn. When she got no answer, she nudged Wrench’s arm so he would look at her.  
“Where are we? What kind of motel is this?”  
He began to sign, then stopped, and scooped up the pencil and notepad. 

**The kind that doesn’t ask questions.**

He opened the car door, and she mirrored his actions, slowly rising with a wince. She noticed he was now carrying a briefcase and a duffel bag, which he hadn’t had before. Was it from the car? Maybe the man at the bowling alley left some supplies and money for them in the trunk?  
She shook the ridiculous thought from her head. As it was, she wasn’t even sure she had actually spoken to anyone.  
Wrench offered his hand to her for support, and she grasped it, hopping along on her good leg into the reception room. Nikki grabbed the counter as a crutch, and rang the bell that sat there. The ring echoed through the empty motel, and silence followed. Looking around, she saw a dusty couch and an old bookshelf that had clearly gone untouched for awhile. It smelled like cigarettes and Fabreeze inside, and really needed an open window.  
“‘Morning,” a voice said, and Nikki glanced back and saw a elderly man in a robe. “My apologies, not much requirement to be up before six these days.”  
“That’s fine, Mister. We’ll be needing a room.”  
“And a bath, I’ll say. Quite a bit of blood on you, young man.” He replied with a chuckle as he pointed at Wrench, who simply frowned in return.  
Nikki cut in. “Not much of a talker, my friend here. Sorry. We’re alright, just a car accident.”  
“No need to explain, it’s okay. That’ll be thirty for one bed-“  
“Two beds, please.” Nikki corrected.  
“Forty five then.”  
Wrench tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a wad of cash. She glanced down and shook her head.  
“No, it’s only forty five, that’s too much.” She whispered slowly.  
He signed something, then shoved the money at her once more.  
“I don’t- fine. Okay, fine.” She snatched it and placed it on the counter. “We’ll pay in advance for a few more nights, just in case.”  
“Sounds like a plan to me, Miss.” the man handed her a key. “It’s upstairs.”  
Nikki thanked him, then turned and opened the door to make her way to the stairs. Wrench walked ahead of her, and she watched his back as he ascended the steps. He moved so smoothly despite the huge tear in his jacket that was crusted with dry blood.  
He took the key from Nikki’s hand and stopped at the door, then opened the it slowly, as if expecting someone to be waiting for them inside. There would’ve been no way anyone could have anticipated them being there together, but there was still the feeling of raised hair, both of them ready to defend themselves again. Though frankly, after already decapitating one guy, and fighting off the other freak with the wolf’s head, she was done for now.  
Closing the door behind her, the first thing Nikki did was crawl into one of the beds and sigh loudly. Her body ached and cramped, and she was ready to sleep for another twelve hours. Her eyes closed for a moment before the felt a finger tapping her arm. She cracked open one eyelid and stared back at Wrench.  
He signed something, then gestured at her leg. She lifted it a little and groaned.  
“Yeah, I guess sooner or later, right?” She sat up with a helping hand from Wrench, and he lifted her arm and wrapped it around his shoulder and practically carried her to the bathroom.  
She placed herself on the toilet seat in the tiny powder room, suddenly having the urge to laugh at how much larger Wrench seemed now, with his head almost touching the low ceiling.  
He removed his jacket with a little struggle, then squatted beside Nikki and met her gaze.  
“You got any booze?” She half joked.  
He frowned, then held up a first aid kit, but not the kind that you get at a drug store. Nikki pictured he had bought it from the Special Forces.  
“Was that from your special duffel bag?” She asked as he pulled out a pair of scissors and cut up her pant leg. “Hey,” she flicked his head, causing him to snap his face up. “I’m talking to you. Where did you get the bags? Your suitcase?”  
He went back to her leg, ignoring her inquires. The bottle of liquid he opened smelled strongly of alcohol, suddenly Nikki really did crave a shot.  
“Fine. Don’t answer me. I don’t need to know. I don’t need to know!” She yelled at his head, which was looking down, focusing on pouring the liquid into some cloths. He placed it against her open wound and she let out a small screech and pushed his hand away.  
“Goddamn! Is that straight acid? Jiminy cricket, gimmie a second.” She inhaled sharply and braced herself on the sink.  
Wrench placed his hand on her knee to steady her and began to clean her blood stained skin, and she felt the tears that tried to fall.  
Sure, Nikki was strong. Weakness was a threat to everything she had worked so hard towards. She always thought her way out of any plan gone wrong, but there was no denying she was at her lowest in this moment as she watched Wrench pull out stitching string and a needle.  
She braced herself and bit her sleeve. 

•••

“Do you need help with yours?” Nikki spoke slowly, trying to emphasis her words as she touched her new bandaging.  
Wrench shook his head, then pointed at the shower.  
“That’s probably a good idea. You go first, I’ll take one after.” She stood up with a small wobble, then turned and left the bathroom. He closed the door and locked it, leaving Nikki alone in the room. She looked down at her dirty clothing, bloody and covered in mud. There were two white robes that sat on the dresser, and confident Wrench was going to be awhile, she stripped and wrapped the robe around herself. She just tried not to imagine how many times it had been worn without wash.  
Sitting on one of the beds, she listened to the sounds of the shower running and the gentle humming of the ice machine outside. Otherwise it was completely silent, the morning birds virtually quiet and no cars passing in the freeway. It was peaceful, despite the slight creepiness of the empty motel, save the elderly man at reception. She wondered why they were all alone there, considering the fairly cheap rooms. Wrench had implied that it was a shady place, where many people like him went (whatever he was), so perhaps only people in real trouble arrived there, asking for a sanctuary.  
It reminded Nikki of the convenient bowling alley that frankly, saved their lives. The man at the bar had asked no questions and gave them free drinks, while the man who had Ray had given them his car. Why had there been an alley in the middle of the woods? So far out beside the highway? Nikki couldn’t picture gathering up a family for a day of fun and driving out an hour to a neon lit building at the edge of a quite possibly haunted forest.  
The all too close memory of the forest sent a shiver down her spine. Between Wrench’s howls of pain and the shear terror as arrows whizzed at them too quickly to avoid (hence her now torn apart calf), it was the most certain she had ever been that she was going to die; in that moment, chained to a stranger and being attacked by crazed mobster assholes.  
With a sigh, Nikki rolled her head to crack her neck, and spied the duffel bag and case sitting on the floor near the door. She stared at them for a moment, tempted to peek.  
No, it wasn’t hers, that wasn’t okay. But then again, did she even give a fuck what was okay anymore? She needed to feel safe with this guy, and somehow knowing what was inside would make her feel better. She listened to make sure the shower was still going, and she quickly ran over to the bag first.  
Unzipping the top, her hands made quick work to discover clothing, toothbrushes, bags of snacks, like the kind you buy for a road trip, and other toiletries. The feeling of nosiness dwindled and she almost felt bad for snooping. She then closed the bag and sat on the carpet. He had just been looking out for them, though had she expected anything else? She then moved to the briefcase, which was mildly heavy. Placing it on the bed, she unhooked the straps and pulled open the top. Inside were passports, credit cards, badges, IDs, and a few wads of cash in both American and Canadian money. She picked up a passport and saw Wrench’s picture but a different name- Jerome Hilton. Then another with the name Stephen Mills. She wondered if his name really was Wrench, or if that’s just another fake persona. She then picked up an ID and saw a different man on it, one that wasn’t Wrench. He had dark hair and a beard.  
“Grady Numbers,” she said aloud, curious to who he was. There are more forms of the man’s identification with other names.  
“Who are you?” She asked to no one in particular, but then there was silence, and the shower wasn’t running any longer.  
Quickly shoving the case back where it was, Nikki rushed back to her spot on the bed.  
Suddenly the bathroom door opened and her bus seat partner stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a pullover. His hair was still damp, but he was clean, though wore heavy bags under his eyes. He strode past her and picked the duffel off the floor. When he opened it, he waved her over, then pointed at the clothes inside.  
“Oh, thanks,” She mustered up a small smile as she grabbed a pair of pants and a tee shirt. She tried to grab a pair of socks and accidentally pulled up a long, blue scarf. She inspected it for a moment before Wrench pulled it out of her hand and signed something. She didn’t understand, but based on his serious expression, she guessed the scarf was off limits.  
“‘Kay,” she turned around and walked towards to bathroom. “Weirdo.” 

 

•••

The mirror was foggy with condensation, and Nikki used her forearm to rub it away enough to look at herself. Her dark hair dripped water onto her bare shoulders, and she watched the little droplets roll down her skin. Her eyelids sagged with sleepiness and she was pale as a ghost. She decided she could look worse, considering the night she had. The fan whirred loudly above her, blowing hot hair around the room. Using one towel, she wrapped her hair up, then dried her body before pulling on the much too large sweat pants and tee shirt. With a curious nose, she smelled the shirt, which had the faint scent of deodorant. She wondered if it belonged to Wrench.  
Pulling the drawstring on the pants as tight as she could, she then stepped out of the bathroom. The first thing she did was throw her old track suit in the garbage, but placed her faux fur coat on the desk chair, not being able to part with it.  
Nikki glanced up at the figure on the bed, finding Wrench leaning against the headboard with his hands resting clasped on his stomach, and his eyes closed. He didn’t move, unaware of her presence in the room. His breath was deep, implying his slumber. The digital clock on the nightstand between the beds blinked 7:05 AM.  
Quietly (still not used to Wrench’s obliviousness to noise), she flicked off the lights and climbed into the queen opposite the other. She spent a moment staring at the large man before climbing back out and pulling his covers over his thick legs. He twitched a little and she moved back, scared of a violent reaction, but his eyes remained closed and began to snore quietly.  
Nikki laid in her bed for what felt like a century, hyper aware of the silence of the motel once again. She focused on Wrench’s breathing from across the room, and stared at the sun through the closed, thin curtains that blocked the outside from viewing the room.  
As soon as Wrench woke up, they needed to plan ahead for what was going to occur in their future. The unlikely pair. They were really in it now, running from the law and from these men. That was going to have to stop. Nikki already knew how she could make it go away, but it would take precise plotting, because it was two against what felt like a whole army. Wrench seemed to be on her side, though there would only be certainty once they had discussed it together. A major scheme. She knew deep down it would be difficult, especially with the language barrier, but she was willing to do all it took to make sure they were an unbeatable team. Bar none.


End file.
